Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
But there’s another reason why it’s inappropriate for me to have the hots for Brad: it’s because he has way more experience than me. Way more. I’m not a virgin, but I’ve been with a few guys in my life. Having gone to an all-girls school, St. Mary’s here in Montclair, I didn’t get a lot of exposure to men or dating on a regular basis. Besides, the guys I went out with don’t even compare to my mom’s ex. They were boys who weighed a hundred fifty soaking wet, while Brad’s a man. Maybe that’s why I can’t help but secretly ogle my mom’s ex when he walks around without a shirt on, or when he’s about to go out to some party or other and he’s dressed to the nines. Especially now that Janice is gone, the attraction rages stronger than ever. After all, I’m an adult woman with needs. But of course, the alpha male hardly notices my existence. I think he sees me as just some kid who’s living under his roof until she gets her shit together.
I sigh, scooping little spoonfuls of frozen deliciousness into my mouth. I’ve stopped paying attention to my book. It’s so quiet in the house that I can’t help but wonder what Brad’s up to tonight. I know he’s home because his black sedan was parked in the driveway when I got home from work. And yet in the few hours that have passed since then, there hasn’t been a single peep.
Where could he be? Of course, this place is enormous, so the answer is “anywhere.” He could be in his home office, the master bedroom, the gym, or his private library. I rarely see Brad downstairs, except for when he’s on his way back in from swimming laps in the pool outside. The sight always makes me go weak in the knees because the alpha male is gorgeous. Water clings to his spectacularly sculpted body, running down that bronzed form in rivulets. He’s usually got a towel draped around his waist, but the thick terry doesn’t hide his sculpted thighs, nor the massive member beneath his shorts. God I’d love to get a look at that fire hose. I’m sure it’s so big that I’d choke on it, or scream when it makes an entrance. But what am I thinking? These daydreams are just the fantasies of a young girl.
Still, even if Brad and I don’t cross paths that often, there are usually tell-tale signs of his presence. A cleared throat, a slammed door, sometimes even the sounds of his baritone voice floating down the hall if he happens to take a business call. But tonight, there’s nothing.
Unable to contain my curiosity, I put my ice cream down, and get up from the couch. As I tiptoe through the designer living room and make my way into the marble entry hall with its thick, crimson runner, I keep my ears open for any sounds coming from upstairs, but there are none. I climb the marble staircase on velvet feet, passing my own bedroom on the second floor, and continue up until, for the first time since I moved in, I’m standing on top floor landing. Yes, the mansion has three stories. And yes, I’ve never been up here before because there was no reason for my presence. But now, I’m curious, so I’m going to do some illicit snooping.
As I creep closer to the door of Brad’s home office, I see it’s ajar. I should really turn around now and abandon this madness. These are Brad’s private quarters, and again, there’s always been an unspoken rule that I’m not allowed up here. But before I fully comprehend what I’m doing, my feet are carrying me towards the office, and I can see there’s a light on inside the room, along with a movement of shadows beneath the door. Brad is definitely in.
Then my heart skips a beat when I start to hear a low, rumbling sound. Rhythmic, even. I creep closer and the sound becomes clearer. It’s panting—male panting. No…. it’s moaning. And I recognize the voice because it’s Brad, grunting in his low, baritone voice. Holy cow, is he having sex with someone? My ears strain but I can’t hear a woman’s voice, or anything except for the slap of flesh, for that matter. Maybe he’s masturbating? The thought makes my body run hot, and I can’t help but peer into the crack of the door.
The sight I’m met with literally takes my breath away. Brad is fully dressed, but his huge cock is sticking out of his open pants as he fucks his desk. No, not his desk. He’s fucking something on the desk. I slide a little to my left and nudge the door open just an extra inch, and I see that the thing he’s fucking is some kind of sex toy shaped like a woman’s ass. Holy cow, I had no idea these things really existed!